


Afterglow

by SimplyShelbs16



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Romance, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyShelbs16/pseuds/SimplyShelbs16
Summary: Based off Ed Sheeran's new song, Afterglow. It's 4 months since the phone call, and Sherlock runs into Molly whilst wandering the streets of London. Will he finally tell her he meant it?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	Afterglow

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is basically a songfic but without me posting the lyrics in between scenes. Listen to the song for ambience maybe? lol

Mornings like this—Sherlock didn’t know how he ever lived without them. He never experienced such a wondrous feeling this early, nor was he ever a morning person, but he thinks he could be now. It felt as if time stood still whilst the sunlight pilfered through the blinds. The light reflected off her hair, fanned out over the pillow, revealing shades of brown, gold, and even red. She was still sleeping peacefully, and he wondered if she’d be happy when she woke or if she would regret the night before. He hoped for the former. Memories came flooding back as he gently brushed his fingers through her tresses.

* * *

_Snow was falling, building up on the streets that Sherlock was venturing down late in the night. He was lost in his thoughts trying to figure out what he felt was missing. There was always one thing, after all. It had been four months since he and Molly said those three words over the phone. Things became more complicated, yet simple all at once. Their entire relationship was a contradiction._

_It was difficult at first, moving on from the pain of that night. It started off slow, small gestures to show they cared for one another; a surprise order of takeaway here, lending an ear there. They began to heal together, slowly at first, and then it was quicker, easier. They rebuilt their friendship from the remaining ashes, coming back stronger than ever. It was deeper, intimate. He remembered being surprised when Molly kissed his cheek for the first time after he had arrived at Bart’s one morning with breakfast and coffee for her. The feeling still lingered, tickling his skin at the thought of it._

_Sherlock continued to stroll down the streets of London, his eyes taking in the atmosphere and the crisp winter air. He soon found he wasn’t paying enough attention to where he was going because he collided into Molly outside of a chip stand. Her basket of chips fell to the ground, and she let out a small shriek as she began to fall, but he caught her in time, his arms wrapped securely around her as he lifted her upright._

_Guilt crossed his features. “Molly, I’m so sorry, are you alright?”_

_She let out a heavy breath of relief. “I am,” she smiled. “Thank goodness for your quick reflexes!”_

_He glanced down at the ground between them. “I’m afraid your chips didn’t survive.” Sherlock turned to the vendor. “Two, please.” He handed him a few quid. Turning back to Molly, he told her, “It’s the least I could do.”_

_When they both received their respective basket of chips, the two of them began walking together over the snow dusted sidewalks._

_“So, what are you doing out so late?” she asked him, popping a chip into her mouth._

_His tone was serious. “Honestly, just trying to figure things out. I do think running into you tonight helped with that.”_

_“Literally,” she laughed. “How so?”_

_Sherlock wasn’t sure if he should say anything so soon, but maybe if he gave enough, she’d give too. “I felt as though something was missing—something very important. It’s strange, knowing I don’t care for such drivel, but seeing you tonight is a sign, I think.”_

_“Oh?” she asked curiously. “A sign of what, if I might ask?”_

_He allowed himself a quick glance at her bundled up form, face tinged pink from the cold. Oh, how he wanted to skip the conversation and go straight to snogging her senselessly. But, no, this was important—it could make or break the nature of their existing relationship. He had to be delicate. Though they had moved past the phone call, he knew reminding her would dredge up bad feelings._

_“It was a sign that I need to be honest with you about something,” he confessed, and he slowed his steps to a stop. Molly did the same._

_A knowing smile appeared on her face as she gazed up into his eyes. “Tell me, Sherlock.”_

_It was his turn to be surprised. By a mere smile she had told him she already knew, and that calmed his nerves considerably. Sherlock caressed her cheek with his hand, feeling much braver than before. His face softened, such tender emotions on display just for her. “Molly, I find myself so deeply in love with you. I need you to know that I meant it. I’ve loved you for quite some time now. Let’s not waste any more of it.”_

_Sherlock leaned down, their cold noses touching. His eyes closed, his breath shook, their noses nuzzled briefly. And their lips met, brushing together in perfect tandem like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly into place. It was so gentle at first, but it gradually rose in intensity, the need for one another growing stronger. Molly slipped her tongue between his lips to meet his. He moaned softly against her mouth which only made her want him that much more._

_They both broke away, breathing heavily._

_“Cab?” he asked._

_“Yes.”_

_“My place or—“_

_“Yours,” she told him. “It’s closer.”_

_They snogged all the way up the stairs to his flat. Those three words were exchanged several times, intermingling with their kisses. His hand slid down to her hip as he shut the door behind him with his foot, a bit too forcefully._

_“Shhh,” she laughed. “You’ll wake Mrs. Hudson.”_

_“She has her herbal soothers,” Sherlock reminded her._

_He leaned his forehead against hers for a moment and kissed her again, trailing his way down from her mouth to her neck. The sounds emanating from her drove him mad in the best way. It didn’t take long before a trail of their clothing was left behind. Sherlock never believed in the idea of magic, but with Molly, there was no denying it. Together they created a most beautiful symphony in perfect harmony. As the tempo grew faster, their once soft sounds rose in volume. Nearly breathless, they clung to one another, building to a crescendo, until finally, they reached the coda of their composition, crying out for one another._

_Moments later, Sherlock took her into his arms. He began lightly trailing his fingers up and down her curves, where her waist met her hip. Her contented sigh had Sherlock bring himself closer, his nose buried in her hair, breathing in her scent of spiced honey and wildflowers. A kiss pressed to her temple here, a nuzzle there—Sherlock held on tight to her, doing whatever he could to remind himself that this was real, that Molly Hooper had chosen him yet again, this time giving herself completely to him, trusting him with her heart and her body. His own heart ached in the best way—aching with all the love he felt for her._

_It was amazing how the emotional state you were in could affect your physical state, he mused silently. There, in the afterglow, Sherlock felt the last of his defenses shatter, allowing himself to fall deeper in love with the woman held tightly in his arms. He wasn’t going to let her go again._

_"What was that?” she mumbled sleepily._

_His lips formed a soft smile. He pressed them against her shoulder. “I won’t ever let you go again. I made that mistake a couple years ago, and nearly lost you to someone else. I’m afraid you won’t be ridding yourself of me now.”_

_Molly snuggled deeper into the duvet, hugging herself against him. “Don’t want to be rid of you. Want you with me.”_

_Sherlock found her sleepy responses adorable. “Get some sleep, darling.” He found himself reaching over to brush his lips against hers softly. Would he ever tire of snogging her? Probably not._

_"Sherlock?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“Love you.”_

_“I love you too, Molly.”_

* * *

The smell of coffee woke her from her deep slumber. Hell, it was the best sleep she’d had in months. Molly burrowed into the duvet, so soft and warm. It took her a moment to realise she wasn’t at her flat, but was nevertheless, home. Baker Street. She turned over, and there was Sherlock in all his glory, his eyes burning with the love he so blatantly felt for her.

“Morning, Molly,” his mouth turned up in a loving smile that she couldn’t help but return. “I trust you slept well.” 

“Mm,” she sounded as she stretched, “I really did. Do I smell coffee?”

He chuckled at that. “I thought I’d better get a pot going. I have your clothes in the wash right now so that you at least have something clean to wear when you decide to go home. Not that I want you to leave, I just thought you might—oh!”

Molly’s lips settled on the curve of his neck, peppering kisses all the way up until she reached his mouth, and brushed hers against his. “You’re worried I regret last night.”

He nodded, impressed that she was now deducing him.

She traced a finger over the scar of his bullet wound. “I regret nothing. I would choose to live through all of it again—all the pain, the long years—it was worth it. You are worth it. And nothing will ever convince me otherwise. There will be no getting rid of me, Sherlock Holmes, I promise you that.”

“Molly.” His voice broke as he said her name. How could he possibly convey the emotions he felt? ‘I love you’ didn’t seem to be enough now. Was there any combination of words that would suffice? No. But, surprising him again, she showed that she understood. 

She wrapped an arm around him, hugging him to her, resting her head on his chest. “I know.”

A shiver worked its way through him at the feel of her kiss over his scar, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

They soon untangled themselves, and Sherlock offered Molly his blue dressing gown as he donned his tartan one. He prepared her coffee the way she liked it—sickeningly sweet. “You know, I’m not even sure it would still be considered coffee anymore,” he joked.

Laughing, she swatted at his arm playfully. “No worse than your stash of sweets in the tin in your bedside drawer.”

“Touché.”

The mug began warming up her hands as soon as she accepted it from Sherlock. She made her way into the sitting room, pausing to take a look out the window behind his chair. Her fingers gently pulled back one side of the curtains, the sight so blindingly beautiful. A blanket of snow, about six inches deep, covered the streets.

Sherlock clicked on the radio, set at a low volume, an Iron & Wine song drifting through the speakers. He took a sip of his coffee and set it down on the desk before wrapping his arms around Molly from behind.

_‘For all the love you’ve left behind, you can have mine.’_

Molly pressed back against him, needing to be closer. She leant her head back against his chest whilst he held her. “I can’t think of a better morning than this.”

He let out a short, quiet laugh and bent his head down to kiss her neck softly. “Want to make it even better?”

A barely audible “yes” left her lips, and Sherlock took the mug from her hands and set it aside. She turned towards him, rising on her toes, and placed a kiss at the corner of his lips. His arms scooped her up quickly, taking her by surprise. She laughed as he snogged her all the way back to the bedroom.

After everything—the good, the pain, the bad timing—it had all been worth it in the end.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed this one! I'm really happy with how it turned out!


End file.
